


Embers of the Inferno

by Serotonina (Makers_Breathc)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol Withdrawal, Angst, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Gen, Identity Issues, Inquisitor & Dorian Pavus Friendship, Inquisitor Backstory, Memory Loss, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, There will be happier times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-01-23 19:32:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18556354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makers_Breathc/pseuds/Serotonina
Summary: "Don't be shy, dear. My masterpiece should hold itself high," he murmured, a feather-light touch tracing the outline of her jaw.Her jaw clenched, her lowered head didn't show any submission as her eyes pierced the man that stood proudly in front of her through a lowered brow. "You didn't make me," she hissed, her voice quieter than the hum in her head. Her stomach churned, her heart beat faster than her mother's foot tapping when she was mad at her, but she didn't show fear. She couldn't."Ah, but I did," he opened his vile mouth again, speaking in mild amusement that only infuriated her more. "See, every mark on your skin is my imprint," he knelt in front of her, a slight smile spreading on his face. "Here," he traced the scar on her stomach, "here," he dragged his fingers to her thighs, "and here." He lightly tapped her forehead before he rose again. "Everything you've endured has made you so strong, and one day, you'll be my perfect weapon."-------Everything happens for a reason, the Maker had a plan for her, was what she was told as a child. Well, the Maker must have been drunk when he came up with her plan.(mentions of rape/non-con in later chapters)-------





	1. Birth of Storm, Death of Light

**Author's Note:**

> It's here, finally! Only took me a month(?) to start rewriting it, but I'm far more satisfied with this version.  
> Based on my first fic, Some Divine Bad Luck, with major editing and fixed plot, it happens a while after the "major" event for my Evelyn (also known as Eyana) happens, and it will be gradually unraveled.  
> It's a bit on the long side, I know ^^"
> 
> Let me know what you think!

Can you kill a monster without becoming one?

Can you escape your fate and remain the same?

The questions remained the same, with no answers, no matter how much she pleaded for them.

She used to be full of hope; brightness that shone in the darkest hours, only to be replaced by a shadow that was staring down at a dozen wounded bodies laid in front of her in the four walls she was trapped in that were slowly closing in on her. "Maker, hear my woe," her throat tightened as she clutched her daggers, her wounds stinging but she didn't care, all she wanted was a way out, a way to escape.

Hurried footsteps echoed just beyond the door of the murder scene and she readied herself for another dance she had grown accustomed to, her hands started shaking when a hooded figure flung the door open, nearly separating it from its rusty hinges and let out a silent gasp. "Please, listen to me," her voice trembled, but she begged to be heard, to be understood.

Another figure presented itself, pulling the hood down to reveal a young man—no older than she—with icy blue eyes that darted from the bodies to her face. "Who are you?" his nostrils flared as he growled at the slim silhouette that stood slumped in a white dress, stained in dark maroons and browns.

A clank was heard and she dropped to her knees, her face buried in her hands that once held stolen daggers, the rustic smell on her fingers making her stomach turn. "I didn't want this. I didn't want to do this. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, all I wanted was— I shouldn't— but they—" her sobs broke her words.

"What happened here? Who are you? Speak, damn it!"

But there were no words, only wailing and labored breathing. "I— ugh. I'm Ey–Evelyn," she blurted out, slowly regaining herself. "Evelyn, from the Free Marches."

"Evelyn Trevelyan? Weren't you supposed to lead the guild in Orlais?" he calmed his tone, approaching her with steady steps.

"Yes." She paused, taking a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart.

"Some are still breathing," the other man, still hooded, added as he was going through the bodies and he shook his head, turning to Evelyn.

"Most of them have non-lethal wounds, but... I don't know how many may survive." Shame and guilt flooded her and she absentmindedly ran her hand over her wounds, wincing at the slight prickle.

The man's attention turned to his companion, telling him to take Evelyn elsewhere and interrogate her before he returned to the bodies. With a silent nod, the young man pulled Evelyn to her feet and pushed her in front of him. "Any sudden movements and you're done for."

She pressed her lips together as he grabbed her wrists, leading her through a narrow hallway that seemed to have no end, the flickering torches igniting a small spark of hope inside her. Jumping from one mess into another; that was her life now. 

The long walk carried them in front of a large door with various sounds coming from behind it, accompanied by a faint sign of a meal taking place. "Would you like a drink?" He released her, slowly opening the door.

"Huh?" her eyebrows rose at her confusion. "I-I mean yes, I could use one. Or plenty."

The corner of his upper lip raised. "Don't mistake this offer for kindness." 

She bit her lip and entered, noticing a small bar in the back of the cramped makeshift tavern, lowering her head to hide the guilt painted on her face as she rubbed her wrists. Luckily, no one had noticed them enter, yet she still cowered behind the tall man that was accompanying her.

"They don't know your crimes. Not yet, at least." He gestured towards the bar, sitting next to her once she took a spot further away from the crowd. "Two whiskeys and leave us," he addressed the bartender before turning back to Evelyn. "Now, tell me. Why are you here? Has Antone turned against us?"

"No," she coughed when the honey-colored drink hit her throat. "If anything, he turned against  _me_. I wasn't... I wasn't supposed to be here, but when Bertram paid us a visit after I recovered the artifact, he gave me the offer to lead the guild in Orlais, which I refused," she took another swig of her whiskey and let it settle down before continuing. "An hour or so before he left, Antone brought me some tea and invited me to a 'farewell party' for Bertram, and next thing I remember I was in a dungeon, in this dress, my ankles and wrists tied—"

"And how do I know you're telling the truth?" he slammed his fist against the wooden surface in front of him, a vein popping out in his neck. 

She looked away, raising her wrists that still had markings from a rope that used to hold them tightly together. "I don't have much proof, you'll have to take my word for it," she replied silently.

"Alright. What happened after?"

"I..." she clenched her fists, digging the nails into her palms, hesitating to answer something even  _she_ didn't know. The man's intense gaze made her remember why she was there, why she needed to explain. "Tortured. I was tortured by Bertram. A couple of days into it, he revealed that he... He was a blood mage."

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "Where is he now? Is he—"

"Dead. Like he should have been long ago."

He rubbed his forehead, dragging his palm across his face. "I'll need to talk to Gareth about this, search Bertram's office to find any evidence... You better pray that we find  _anything_ that will back up your story. I'll get you a change of clothes once I can, and see if I can find an available room for you to stay in while we settle this. If anyone sees you with any kind of weapon, the dungeons will be waiting for you. Stay here." He downed his glass, leaving it to roll on the bar table as he walked away.

Evelyn's hands were still trembling, but the initial state of shock was gone with two glasses of whiskey. She propped her elbows on the bar, observing the smiling drunken faces that stirred a warm feeling inside her as it brought back memories of her time in the Free Marches. Antone might have been corrupt, but the rest weren't. From the older elf that was always there to set her straight and act like a grandmother that loved to drink too much, to the arm wrestling with the drunk, lanky rogue Yvo, and even the occasional bickering with Ilinka, a dwarf that had a temper shorter than she was, she missed them all, and maybe even Antone- if she could bring herself to admit it, the steamy nights they shared in bed were not something one could easily forget. A sad smile crept on her face as she swirled her glass.  _It's gone now, there's no point in dwelling on something that once was._

"You okay there, girlie? You look like you've been to the Void and back," the old bartender that was shooed off previously returned to his spot, cleaning a glass with a damp rag.

"You don't know the half of it," she chuckled quietly. "Where did that man go? The one that was with me?"

"Who, Darius?" He placed his glass down, glancing around the tavern and raising his shoulders once Evelyn nodded. "Beats me. I was playing cards, didn't notice."

The guild's layout more or less matched the one that was in the Free Marches, meaning she could easily slip away and do her own business but she didn't want to appear more suspicious than she already was, and all she could do at that point was sit in her bloodied dress and hope for the best.

Rhodri-the bartender-frequently engaged her in conversation about trivial things, combating his boredom as well as hers, asking about her training and the hardships she's endured during those times. She was a fighter as well, she learned, and quite a good one, but time took its toll on the poor man. "You remind me of my late daughter," he reminisced. "She had a spirit I could not find in any other, and she's the main reason I joined when I did. I lost her to the Blight, she was fighting darkspawn by King Cailand's side, but the damned things took her." His grey mustache shifted, almost matching his pained expression. His eyes gave away how much he missed his family and all she could do was offer a comforting pat on his back and a polite smile. In a way, she saw a bit of her father in him; both were chatty old men that could lead her to new places with their stories, leave her feeling as if she experienced them.

Their chatting came to an abrupt end when Darius rushed in, pulling her away from the bar. "We've got a couple of survivors, one of which was a researcher that worked for Bertram. Most of our people survived, but three were dead," he spoke through heavy breaths as they entered an infirmary-like room, beds crammed from one corner to another, filled with wounded souls. "Unfortunately, Bertram's body wasn't found."

"What?!" her gaze rushed from one bed to another, clenching her fists when she couldn't see her captor's face dying among them.

"We suspect there might be some of  _his_ men, unaffiliated with us, that took him out. As for the needed evidence, well, his friend here confirmed most of what you said.

She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. "And you're going to believe him that easily?" It all seemed too convenient. His body went missing, Darius and Gareth were gone more than an hour, enough time to take Bertram out and tend to his wounds so he can finish the job. "I knew you were with him, no one can turn away from his leader that easily."

"What are you talking about?"

"One of his researchers is alive, Bertram is gone, and you spin this wonderful story before throwing me into his jaws again. Am I wrong?"

Darius squinted at her, mouth slightly open as he searched her face. After a long pause, he pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "You're serious, aren't you? Maker, you're serious," he exhaled sharply, crossing his arms. "Fine. You can search the  _whole_ place. If you find any signs of him, I want to be the first to know. And, for some clarification, I threatened the researcher for information.

 _Does he really have no ill intentions? If they do turn on me, I'll have no problem slaughtering them and—_ Maker, she sounded ridiculous.  _If they truly wanted to recapture me, they could've done it when I was at my weakest._

"All done resolving your internal conflicts? There are clothes and armor in the second room to your right, pick out whatever you like."

"What happens to me now?" she muttered as she slowly approached the bandaged man that laid asleep in front of her.

"You could stay with us, for a while. I'll send a letter to your... Previous guild to let them know, and hopefully, get some answers. Now go, get your clothes, and meet me at the tavern."

The urge to stay and ask the researcher every bit of detail he knew about the time she spent bound in that small cage was too strong, but still, she stormed off to finally change the dress she had been wearing for over a month, desperate to get rid of it and whatever the feeling was that it invoked. Entering the room that contained all needed items, she began going through the casual clothes, hoping to find something more comfortable before binding herself in armor again. Many chests were spread left and right, both confusing and angering Evelyn as she rummaged through them, huffing at all the discarded armor that was placed at random. Next thing she knew, she was knee-deep in armor, frantically organizing the chests by armor type and size before picking out what seemed to satisfy her and went to the tavern.

Greeted once again by the rich smell of meats and soup, only this time it seemed to be stronger. Or, was it her hunger? Shoving that thought aside, she scurried to a table in the back, far from everyone's eyes and searched for Darius.

"Lady Trevelyan," a gruff voice escaped the jargon as a man approached her. "I hope we weren't too hard on you. I... Should apologize, it must have been hard for you."

"Please, call me Evelyn. You're Gareth, I assume?" A curt nod followed, allowing her to continue. "Apologies are unnecessary, my good man. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't even  _dare_ let myself speak," she chuckled. "Seeing someone standing atop a hill made of bodies won't exactly portray them as innocent."

He let out an amused huff in response, sitting opposite of her. "Darius told me everything. How are you feeling?"

"I'm... Surprisingly good. Whatever Bertram did had quite an impact on how I handle situations like these, it seems."

"Whatever he did?" he pulled back, raising an eyebrow. 

"It's all a blur. I've got the scars and wounds to remind me of what he  _might_ have done, other than that, I don't remember much..." Her gaze was set somewhere on Gareth or behind him, unmoving as he watched her in confusion. When she came back to herself after what seemed like hours, she looked down at the table, fiddling with a small, unused napkin that made the table its home. "I wanted to die there," she confessed with a quiet tone. "He wouldn't let me."

Silence fell and she felt a hand gently grip her shoulder. "It's over. You're free," Darius smiled at her as he sat down next to her. "It will be fine."

Evelyn's lips curved into a sad smile as she mouthed  _thanks_. Was she truly free? What was the price of freedom she had to pay so she could get to this point, to her breaking point? She wanted answers but didn't know whether she truly needed them. All she knew was that she had to pay a certain friend a visit; it wouldn't be pretty.

"One thing that bothers me though, Bertram never showed any signs of being a mage. He seems to have been good at hiding his abilities."

"I assume he never had a reason to show them, until—" she bit the inside of her cheek, furrowing her brows. "I've decided I'll stay. I'll need the coin to go back to the Free Marches."

"That doesn't sound good. This might as well signal an end to us as an organization. For now, I'll offer shelter for these people before breaking the news, if there is anything to... Break news for. Gareth and I were Bertram's right and left hand, his most trusted assistants. Melanie was second to me, and if all goes well, we might even continue."

"Melanie? Have I met her?"

"Unless you've met her before coming here, no. She's in Redcliffe, trying to recruit anyone that might be interested."

She hummed to herself, making a mental note on all the new names she'd have to remember and asked Darius to show her to her room.

 

* * *

 

 

"Is it true you were everyone's favorite? I don't see the appeal, honestly—"

Evelyn tried to ignore Melanie's scoffing as she went through reports in yet another attempt to avoid the usual routine of pointless arguments that seemed to have no end. "You're too old for this, you know," she kept her eyes on the desk she was cleaning, not losing her calm demeanor. "Stop bickering and do your job, or I just might take it from you."

She didn't know why Melanie disliked her. The ramblings of an old woman were the least of her concerns, though, Darius and Gareth agreed to help Evelyn until she earned enough coin to make her way to Kirkwall, and she wasn't far from her goal. That's all that mattered to her.

The small office they used to revise tasks and requests was neatly organized thanks to the hours she put into dusting and cleaning up scattered papers that somehow found their way up on bookshelves, under the desks and even crumbled in a corner. She let out a sigh of relief, glancing over the furniture to see if anything was amiss and once she was satisfied with her results, she grabbed a book and made her way to the tavern she frequently visited. "The usual," she smiled at Rhodri and dropped her book on the bar, producing a low thud as it slammed against the wood.

"New one?" Rhodri passed her a glass of the harsh drink a poured one for himself. "Haven't you had enough of readin'?"

"It supposedly has something on memory loss, though I've read through so much that I'm this close-" she brought her thumb and forefinger together, "-to giving up."

"Maybe it's a sign, Eve. Maybe the Maker doesn't want you to find out."

She groaned and with a dismissive wave of her hand, she opened her book. She believed as much as the next person, but sometimes the whole deal either made no sense or seemed like utter druffalo dung. "If He doesn't want me to find out, then He should come and tell me Himself."

The old man tutted in response, passing drinks to others that gathered in the tavern. It was fairly busy, especially when most of the wounded had recovered and they wanted a hot meal to replenish their strength. Meanwhile, she was stuck in endless sentences that danced on the pages, her eyes were strained and she pressed her fingers to her temples to ease the ache that grew but she didn't stop reading.  _What is memory loss,_ as if she didn't know,  _how to cope with it,_ she didn't care, the faint smell of dust tickling her nostrils each time she turned each page, slowly getting agitated at the lack of information. She slammed the book shut and dropped her head in her arms and groaned loudly, a muffled voice mentioning something about 'giving up'.

An outreaching hand gently caressed her shoulder, comforting her. "Didn't find what you're looking for?" The girl she bunked with spoke in a soft voice. Eleanor, with skin the color of the finest chocolate and eyes that had mazes of forests hidden in them. Short, raven hair that had each strand dancing to its own tune, and a personality that could melt the coldest of hearts.

"No," she raised her head to look at her friend and exhaled sharply. "At this point, I don't think I ever will."

"Is it really that important that you find out? What if it's worse than you thought?"

"I just want to know what that bastard did to me that left me like... Like this. It doesn't feel right. It's unnatural."

"You're overthinking it. Focus on your path ahead, if you still want to find out in the future, go for it... For what it's worth, there is nothing wrong with you."

Eleanor's soft smile brought a strange ease to Evelyn's mind. She nodded and left her seat, gesturing to Eleanor to follow her, switching the topic of conversation to something lighter. "What will you do once this is over?" she asked, letting the conversation flow freely as they strolled through the halls. Neither of them sat down to share their stories on how they joined, what they did and the like, though Evelyn was careful not to reveal too much and jumping from one topic to another, they made it to their room, ready to get some shut-eye.

 

The day was over, and so was another, slowly turning into weeks. She found out they were near a small village that laid close to Highever where she could get to Kirkwall faster and finish her task. Foot by foot, flimsy bag in her hand that carried some potions and coin, she walked alongside Darius that wanted to accompany her before they went their separate ways. Oddly enough, she felt attached to the people she forme some kind of friendship there and she knew that she would miss Rhordi's stories and Eleanor's giggles at her spicy jokes, but she wouldn't let her emotions get in the way again. She was determined and had her own path to follow, make a life of her own, grow as a person.  _Free,_ she reminded herself,  _I'm free,_ still in disbelief, though she didn't know how much that meant to her or what it meant, for that matter.

A tinge of orange mixed in with the dark blue sky crept at the horizon, slightly illuminating their path, the light barely escaping through the trees. The silent chirping of bugs, rustling leaves and footsteps broke the silence as they continued forward, hoping to see even a small sign of the village. "Are you sure we're going the right way? Seems like we're going in circles," Evelyn remarked as she lit a torch.

"I'm... Sure," Darius scratched his head. "I've been through this forest plenty of times."

She hummed in curiosity, turning to him. "Shouldn't be far, right? I mean, we've been walking for two hours at least."

"Here-" he handed her a map and pointed to a small circle, "-this is where we're heading."

She nodded, squinting at the map in an attempt to make out the locations. Trying to navigate, she paused and looked at the sky. "We're facing west, the hideout is uh... Southwest, but we're supposed to be heading north if this map is correct."

"Oh? I must have taken the long route then. My apologies," he bowed slightly, smiling at Evelyn. "I think we should stop for a while, rest our legs and grab a bite. We've been walking long enough."

"That's a good idea, though I didn't bring any food or water with me," she kneaded her shoulder. "I supposed I could go fetch something—"

"And get mauled by a bear? Not a chance. I brought enough, and a thin blanket so we don't sit on the cold ground." He dropped the bag he was carrying and pulled out a blanket, a tin container that had some meats and neatly unfolded a flimsy cloth which kept the bread secure. "I've got it all covered."

"Seems that you do," she tilted her head, curiously eyeing the man that tapped his hand beside him. He really did go out of his way for this trip, and she could only guess how heavy the bag must have been.

They ate in silence, occasionally swatting away pesky ants that tried to steal their food. She put away the leftovers, leaning back on her arms as she turned her head to Darius.  _What a strange man,_ she huffed with a slight smile, thinking back at how much he's helped her and how he managed to convince the usually grumpy Gareth to let her stay and train the recruit Melanie got, and help Rhodri tend the bar, though she loved cleaning more than anything.

* * *

 

_"We still can't trust her, Darius," Gareth rolled his eyes. "What she went through is tragic, yes, but how can we be sure she won't let loose again? You saw what she did to those men."_

_"Eleanor agreed to watch her, and I'll be keeping an eye out. If there's any sign of her going rogue again, she will die by my blade. That I can promise."_

* * *

 

Evelyn stood up from her spot as soon as Darius finished eating. She helped him pack and threw her bag over her shoulder, grabbed the torch to safely navigate and prayed they'd reach the village before dawn. "So, where are you heading once I leave?" She broke the silence, eyes still set on the road ahead.

"Denerim, most likely. Heard my father is in King Alistair's guard now," his eyes glinted as a smile appeared on his lips. "That old fart is finally good for something."

"Do you miss them? Your family?"

"I can't say I  _don't_... They did urge me to join the guild, though."

"Oh? Mine never even bothered to respond once I was taken for ransom," she slowed her pace, pouting at the thought. "Not that I care much, if I can be honest." She paused for a moment, looking at Darius' puzzled expression. "Did I overshare?" She grinned in an awkward manner.

"No, no—" he quickly looked away from her, fiddling with his cuff. "I uh, I guess that's the life when you're not a first-born, huh?"

"Everything was fine before, I don't know what came over them... Not that it matters to me, I like this life more. I can choose what I want to be, who I want to be with... I get to choose my own life. Not many people get that choice nowadays."

He inclined his head in sympathy, but whether he understood what she was trying to say, she couldn't tell. Carefully stepping over dry branches and crumbling leaves, he pointed in front of them, following the loud noises coming from the village they were nearing. Evelyn's forehead creased and she turned to him, mouth open as she searched his face for any sign of a plan but she already knew what they were going to do. She pulled the inside of her lower lip between her teeth, extinguishing the torch and readied the freshly forged daggers. "Shall we?" the corner of her lip moved upwards, dropping her bag when a smile was returned.

Their footsteps were hurried but cautious, calculated, prepared for anything that lied ahead. The commotion was getting louder as they approached, screaming and grunting and metal was clashing but muffled sobbing was what got their attention; a child-no older than ten-hid behind a tree trunk with its mouth covered. "Scout the area," she crouched, whispering to Darius. "I'll see if I can get something out of the kid."

Darius pulled up his hood and was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving Evelyn to slowly approach the small figure without startling it. "Hey," she spoke in a soft voice as she gently stepped towards the child. "I won't hurt you, I'm here to help."

The young boy looked up at her, his puppy eyes nearly melting her and she smiled so she wouldn't appear hostile. "Th—They took ma..."

"Who did? Do you know where they took her?"

He shook his head, sniffling as he wiped his tears away. "The bad men. They said they drove them off but they came back—"

She rushed towards him, covering his mouth and slammed her back against the trunk. "Shhh, we're gonna play a little game, alright? It's called the quiet game—" she stopped her breath when she heard quiet voices coming closer. "Whoever loses has to eat stinky fish stew for dinner!" A quiet chuckle escaped her throat when she noticed the boy's crinkled nose. "Now, stay here and cover yourself with this, I'll be back in a moment and we'll find your mom, alright?"

Quickly taking the cloak off, she tucked in the little boy to make sure he was well hidden and swiftly stepped away, effortlessly climbing a tree and settled between the denser branches so she could scout for threat. As the minutes passed, she grew impatient and looked back at where the boy had been, ensuring he hadn't left the spot and she dropped down quietly, keeping to the shadows and slowly crept towards the source of the group that was there moments ago. The village was on the smaller side, secluded, which made a good target for frequent raids but something felt off; the group was too big, well armed and nothing seemed destroyed.  _I hope Darius is alright,_ she thought, dashing behind a barrel that was big enough to hide her lithe frame.

"Well, what have we here?" A heavily armored figure appeared in front of her, the odd helmet making his chuckle sound more sinister.

Her chest rose and fell faster than a startled puppy's as she kept her post, kneeling behind the barrel that served no purpose anymore. "Nothing... Nothing? I was just... Looking for a coin I dropped. When you're poor you need every coin you can get, you see—"

"Shut it. Men, take this one," the man commanded and a few more appeared from the side, tightly gripping their swords and what she could make out as ropes.

_Shit._


	2. Travels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn gets caught and her determination to find out what's going on in the village leads her to Amaranthine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly dialogue heavy, but it's nothing irrelevant. Hope you enjoy!

Wrists tightly tied together, she walked between two men that seemed way taller than she was as they led her to a house in the back of the village, with what she assumed was their leader walking in the front. "I don't suppose you're working for a guy about my size? A sharp jawline that he could use to cut his palm with to fuel his blood mage orgies? No? Alright then."

"Why haven't you shut her up yet?"

The man by her left side cleared his throat, waving his hand. "She's all talk."

 _He could be sick,_ she observed, his hoarse voice and sniffling betrayed him, _an easy target._ All of them stood high, proud, either they were well trained or overconfident. Either way, she would need a good plan if she wanted to deal with them, and uncover what they were plotting then get herself out and find Darius. She had a set of lock picks hidden well in her armor, thankfully. "Just in case," she told Darius who shook his head at her choice. Well, who's shaking his head now, Darius? Probably him, again, as the men dragged Evelyn down into a basement.

"Put her with the rest," the leader grabbed a parchment and took a look around the gloomy place. "I'll send a report. We caught good ones."

Pushed into a cage, she grunted when she collided with the ground in the cramped, tight space and flipped them the bird. Men and women, children and elderly, all of them terrified, and she was going to have none of this nonsense. "I'll get you out, just stay quiet," she rubbed her arm as she stood up.

Some of them nodded, others were hugging each other and an older man in torn rags banged his fists on the cold steel bars. "Just _how_ are you going to get us out? You're as helpless as we are! We've been doomed since they put us in this Maker forsaken place!"

 _Helpless? I'm far from it._ "Keep your voice down and stay calm. I know you're afraid but I _will_ get you out."

"Evelyn?" a familiar voice came from her neighboring cage. "They got you too?"

"Oh Darius, what's up?" she absent-mindedly replied as she studied the lock.

"Oh, nothing! Just knitting a lovely new scarf to be hung with!"

"Listen, I have a plan, but you'll need to get out as quickly as possible."

He pushed aside some of the people to take a good look at her, eyebrows drawn together as he watched her. "Get out how, exactly? I do paperwork and assassinations, I'm wasn't a–a thief."

A low groan escaped her throat as she rolled her eyes and she reached inside her pants. "Fine. Stay put."

"Did–did you just..."

"It's not as if they'd look there," she winked and reached for the lock. Figuring it out was tricky; it was nothing she had the pleasure of picking before but it didn't pose much of a problem. "We will need to clean up this place if you want to get out of here alive," she whispered to the old man. "Whatever you do, don't leave the basement, I'll come back to get you." Once she saw a nod, she slowly pushed the door open while the man passed on the orders. Making sure the others knew of the plan, she opened the second cage, then the third which released Darius and he gave her a quick overview of their situation; they had no weapons and they'd be overwhelmed immediately if they were to attack.

Darius dared not ask her what happened to her cloak, which was a crucial part of her, instead, he focused on staying quiet as they cautiously snuck past some guards that stood–or rather, sat–watch at a nearby table, and inspected the rooms in hopes to find their weapons. They had previously argued to split and cover more ground, but the slower way was safer and the house wasn't even big, to begin with. Darius led the way, having experience in fistfighting, whereas Evelyn followed behind, watching his back.

"Two guards," he opened a door slowly, careful not to make a sound as he whispered to Evelyn. She only closed her eyes in her own way of silently saying that she's following him, and they crept behind the guards, swiftly snapping their neck. Darius stood up and let out a quiet groan as his back cracked, then began undressing the guard he cold-bloodedly murdered a moment ago.

"What are you–ooh." Evelyn quickly joined him and put on the armor, wincing at the stench of sweat. "I guess we could use their weapons as well."

Each grabbed their own sword and she began slashing the air to try her luck at combat with a two-handed weapon. She shook her head and dropped it, searching through the chests for anything that might fit her preference, and lo and behold, a lone blunt dagger lay on the bottom of a chest, ready to be manhandled as if the Maker heard Evelyn's wishes.

"That doesn't seem like a good option," Darius mumbled as he tested the blade's sharpness.

"I'd rather work with a blunt blade than something I'm inexperienced with."

He shrugged and put on his helmet, rolling his shoulders as he walked towards the door. Evelyn's armor was a size too big, _I'll manage,_ she thought as she waddled behind her friend.

_"Approximately nine guards are inside, minus the ones we just killed. Be careful."_

With weapons sheathed, they walked past a few guards that were too busy playing cards to notice them. She hurried her pace; three fast steps and one slower, a signal that more are coming. _"It might be suspicious, but it's the only thing we can do."_ Three rooms were clear, five guards dead.

Four remained.

Their armor clanked as they walked, filling the silence that made the air seem heavier than before.

Two taps on the leg. _Split up._

Nod.

Heavy breathing, grunting, steel blades against breastplates.

Two remained.

Evelyn searched thoroughly, two guards were still missing; the leader which had a highly distinctive armor and the one that shoved her inside. At this point, it was personal. _They could be outside. **Outside?**_ _The kid!_ She was still weighed down by the heavy armor, every movement felt harder and every breath-heavier than before. Fumbling with the buckles, she took it off as fast as she could, picking up her blades that laid near a chest and ran out, dismissing the fact that she was in her smallclothes.

The village was dead silent. No more fighting, no more screaming, just an awful reminder of the world she lived in. Her head swung from side to side, trying to navigate back to the old tree trunk, hoping to see the small figure still wrapped in her cloak, hoping that it'd be peacefully sleeping while everything else crumbled. At least, someone would feel at ease.

Her tendency to get lost hasn't failed her yet, however. "Fucking— Hey, kid! Where are you?" she used the full force of her lungs to either catch the attention of the boy or the guards. Either would work. "It's over kid, you can come out now!"

No response.

She slumped her shoulders and went back to get her clothes, feeling that she won't have much use of the oversized armor that made a decent disguise. Relieved she got herself rid of the pesky buckles and whatnot, she slipped into her comfortable vest and breeches and head towards the basement.

"Is everything alright in here?" she closed the door behind her and slowly made her way down the stairs. "Those people are dead, only two remain as far as I know," she paused, eyes searching through the crowd. "Has anyone seen the man that was with me?"

"He came in to ask about you and left quickly, hasn't come since."

"Right... Thanks. I think it's safe for you to go now."

Her feet dragged her from one room to another, fearing the worst. _There's no way they got him,_ he was more skilled and resourceful than she could ever dream to be and he could easily outwit his opponents, though that didn't stop her from worrying. A distant yell got her attention and she bolted to the door, her blood ran cold as she desperately tried to figure out where the sound was coming from. She shouted his name over and over, daggers in each hand, heart pounding. Faint laughter echoed and she placed her blades back in their rightful spot on her back, and within seconds she stood by his side, mouth opened as if to scold him, but all that came out of her was a surprised yelp when a small figure clung to her legs in a spring of giggles. Brown eyes slowly met Darius' hazel eyes and he smiled at her as she placed her hands on the child's back, searching for any words that would be appropriate for her situation.

"Dar told me how brave you were! I gave him your cloak and the bags so you wouldn't lose them!" he chirped, arms still locked around Evelyn.

"Dar?" she pat his head and grinned widely. "Cute. Let's find your mommy."

"He has a name, you know. Arren." Darius stood up and passed Evelyn her cloak. "I need a drink."

Arren dragged her by the hand, eager to introduce his savior to his mother while she talked her frustrations away, flailing with her other arm and she couldn't help but laugh when she noticed Darius' concerned face. With two more turns, they arrived at the doorstep of an older house and she swayed while she waited for a response to her knock.

"Did you tell them it was safe? The other two fled, though I don't know which way they went," Darius scratched his head.

Evelyn nodded and drummed her fingers on her biceps. Just as she was about to knock again, she heard a click and the slow creak of an old door and Arren was already at his mother's knees, ready to tell her the wild story he experienced. She was pale, weary, _bad living conditions, no doubt,_ Evelyn's eyes would've watered if she didn't see the woman's gleaming eyes. An endless stream of gratitude flooded both Evelyn and Darius, and after some reassurance, they were free to get a drink.

It seemed that everything ended well when they ordered ale and toasted for a job well done. "So they have enough money for a tavern, but not enough for guards?" Darius shifted in his seat, looking at his drink with mild disgust. "Seems they have their priorities."

"Seems like it," Evelyn giggled. "I think I'll come with you to Denerim."

He raised his eyebrows. "That was sudden. What made you change your mind?"

She gave it a long thought and brought the tankard to her lips, letting the liquid linger in her mouth for a while before she finally swallowed. "This needs to be brought to the attention to the King, or the guards, or... Or whoever might be interested. Too many innocents would've suffered if we didn't come at the right time."

"And how will you execute that? 'Hello, I'm Evelyn Trevelyan, I killed some people that took your villagers hostage and I think you should look into that.'" He batted his eyelashes at her, trying his best to mimic her voice.

She swatted his arm in return, pouting at his mocking. "I'll think of something. I can always be a prissy noble or a peasant— I know! You could pretend to be my husband, we'd say we were on our honeymoon and we got attacked!"

He held back a choke and looked at her with wide eyes. "What?! Eve, you know my father is—" she broke his sentence with a muffled snort and he rolled his eyes, mumbling something as he wiped away the ale head from his lips. "Let's just get a room and we'll discuss this once we've rested." He stood up, lazily dragging himself to the innkeeper and learned that only one room was available–thanks to the day's events–but it had a bunk bed so they'd have to deal with it.

"I'm taking the bottom one," Evelyn threw her bag on her bed and sighed. "I... I have frequent nightmares, so I hope it's not a problem."

"Don't worry," Darius' expression softened. "Eleanor told me about it."

She nodded and carefully unfolded her blanket, undressing once Darius was settled in his bed. Somehow, she knew that a long, thorny road would be laid in front of her, as if what she's endured so far hasn't been hard enough. All she wanted was a peaceful life... Even if she knew it would be boring.

Tossing and turning, the bed was too hot and too cold at the same time. The same visions plagued her dreams; three looming figures over her writhing body that hopelessly tried to scream in the pitch black abyss. _"Wake up,"_ they mocked her, _"wake up, wake up, wakeupwakeupwakeup,"_ they cackled, and she clenched her fists, ready to make her final stand. Instead, she jolted awake, nearly hitting her head against the boards above her.

"Thank the Maker you're short," Darius gave her a gentle smile as he placed her clothes next to her. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just... Ugh, I wish I could remember," she pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut.

"What's, uh, what was up with the nugs?" he looked up at the ceiling, at the worn out wall next to him, he looked everywhere that didn't have Evelyn near his sight. "Can you...?"

"What? Oh." She pulled the wool blanket over her barely concealed torso and rubbed her face. "What's going on?"

"A caravan stopped by earlier. The man said they were taking a break from the trip, they're heading to Denerim and there's enough space for four more people."

"That's convenient," she scrambled with her armor, trying to put it on as fast as she could so Darius wouldn't wait too long. She couldn't understand how he suddenly gained morals and refused to look at her when she wasn't dressed, but she quickly brushed it off since the room was bright enough to show every scar and imperfection on her skin.

They agreed to stretch their legs and get a hot meal before departing, greeted by a warm smile on the innkeeper's face as he happily passed them a bowl of soup. As if she hadn't eaten in weeks, Evelyn cleared her bowl in a matter of minutes and slumped down in her chair, exhaling in satisfaction as she waited for Darius. The expected cheery tavern atmosphere was replaced by a dark cloud that hung from the ceiling, few people scattered in the small space and quietly ate. They were still recovering from the night, and from what she gathered, it wasn't the first time something like that has happened in the village. _Why hasn't this been reported yet?_ She fiddled with her spoon, one arm lazily resting on her stomach.

 

* * *

 

 

Evelyn dangled her legs off the carriage while the horses slowly galloped towards their destination, the crunching gravel providing more noise than necessary as everyone was quiet. Darius was making a wide range of expressions, burrowed deeply in a book that he shamelessly stole from one of the houses, a book that seemed enticing enough to make him gasp audibly and earn a hearty chuckle from Evelyn.

"Did you come up with a plan yet?" He closed his book, placing it in his bag.

"You read faster than I do... Impressive. And no, nothing yet. I could use some help, you know."

"It was your idea in the first place, it's only fitting that you come up with the plan."

A smile tugged at her lips and she shook her head; he was right. She got herself in the mess, and she'd have to get herself out of it. Was it too late to withdraw? It wasn't, but she couldn't bring herself to leave those poor people to their fate. Two women were traveling with them, one which she recognized as her cell mate. Mid-sixties, visiting her son in Denerim... Or just trying to escape. The other was younger her, flame red hair and green eyes that stood against her pale skin. Evelyn gathered some information on them, not because she wanted to, but because their chatter was loud enough that the whole Free Marches could have heard it. Besides, it _was_ the only source of entertainment for a couple of hours, and based on her calculations and map, they had a day left before they arrive, keeping in mind that they might stop at Amaranthine for a meal.

Amaranthine was a bustling city and it still had its scars from the darkspawn attacks after the Fifth Blight. She was hoping to visit Vigil's Keep as well, though she feared that she may not have enough time before they'd have to depart. She sat next to Darius and clasped her hands, inhaling slowly. "Anything going on in Amaranthine?" she whispered, looking at the road they were passing.

"Two minor smuggling operations and a former assassin, Elyndar the Blue, is hiding at the Crown and Lion. Why?"

She pursed her lips and turned to him. "Just checking. If we're going to the King or whatever, we might as well do something that would prove that we're trustworthy. The arling is on the main merchant route and good deeds spread fast when needed."

"It's a good idea, we could start with Elyndar."

"No, that would be bad, unless you mean to question him. Do you know anything about him?"

He lowered his head, his eyes drawing patterns in the air as he tried to remember anything significant. "Elf, barely escaped his guild. The Blue symbolizes regret, likely something he'd want to leave behind."

"Good enough. He might be trying to start over... We could help with that–for a price, of course."

Darius raised his eyebrow in amusement and reached inside his bag, pulling out a bottle of whiskey which seemed to come out of nowhere. Evelyn straightened her back and eagerly opened the bottle, ready to welcome the burning, yet familiar sensation it left in her throat. They fell back to the usual comforting silence as they passed the bottle back and forth as if they were children that were taking turns in playing with a doll before their parents called them over for supper.

The old man shouted as the caravan stopped. Darius jumped down from the carriage with wobbly legs, nearly laughing at Evelyn as she scowled at the empty bottle and threw it away with a grunt. He made a silent remark on how she was very confident while drunk, when _she_ was the one that drank most of the bottle's contents.

"I used to work while I was drunk," she responded with a slight slur. "Kept me calm." She fiddled with the map, squinting at it, trying to make sense of the blur that was in her hands, all while Darius was making a fool out of himself in front of a young noblewoman that had poor luck. "Excuse my friend," she smiled as she pulled him away. "He had a bit too much to drink."

She scolded him as if she was his mother and pointed towards the Chantry, letting him lean on her when they mad their way up the stairs. She stopped in front of the chanter's board, not that she was interested in it, but she had to find any means necessary to get a lead on the smugglers. After a long while of trying to connect the words inside her head, she ripped off a parchment and with newly learned strings of curses from nobles, she found her way to the tavern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! Working and writing was hard, but it gave me new ideas for the plot.


	3. Darkness Beyond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killing smugglers, finding out new things... Poor Evelyn.  
> Edit 06/06: Fixed a typo or two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was... trying, to say the least. But, it is here and chapter four will have so much more!

_Elyndar, Elyndar..._ She kept repeating the name to herself as she turned the worn-out doorknob.

Three men were to her left, one already passed out while the other two casually conversed. Five further down, occupying a round table that was filled with various foods. Two were standing near a newly lit hearth that slowly started to warm the chilly morning air that gently prickled her skin, and in the back, near the stairs, was the barkeep that cautiously watched them enter. Darius slumped in a chair and held his head, which Evelyn thought was a much better alternative than to let him talk and embarrass himself in his drunken state, though she wasn't any better. Had they really been traveling for a day?

"What can I getcha?" the bartender placed his palms on the counter and swiped away some dust that gathered up overnight.

"Something to sober up my friend over there," she pointed with a thumb, "and I need some information."

"Figured as much. What do you need?" his gravelly voice lowered and he leaned closer to Evelyn.

"It's about someone that stayed here. Does the name Elyndar sound familiar?"

He pursed his lips and his forehead gained more wrinkles than it already had, he took a mug and some drink Evelyn couldn't recognize. "He stopped by a few times, why?"

Nothing but silence came out of her as she studied him, his eyes were lowered, sunken. Whether he was hiding something or just focusing on his duties, she wasn't sure; but she was more than willing to find out. "I need his help, and I think I could help him as well." She slipped him a sovereign to cover the drink she was given and potentially bribe the man for more information. "Please."

Much to her delight, he sighed and gestured her to follow. She trailed behind him up the stairs to the back of the tavern where it was still dark. _Knock, knock, knock, knock... Knock._ Five knocks? It was a code, surely. Her suspicions were confirmed once a grumble came behind the door along with some locks being unlocked. Once the darkness inside the room revealed itself, they stepped in and Evelyn made sure she kept some space between her and the elf. Wayward light crept in from the barred windows, unveiling clothes and papers that were thrown carelessly on the floorboards, a couple of dishes forming a small tower on a desk nearby. She judged every bit of unorganized documents and books, until she _really_ looked at him. He was nervously fumbling with his stained shirt, his worn out eyes pierced the bartender and he snarled, his gaze briefly moving to Evelyn.

"I thought I paid you enough so no one would bother me," he crossed his arms, leaning against the desk. Just how much did he pay the man to keep him away from the others?

"This could be worth your time, hear her out. She said she could help ya."

As the bartender left, she quietly waited for Elyndar to gather himself before she spoke. His skin was pale, his eyes were shadowed, it was almost as if he hadn’t seen the light of day in _years._

"You look like you've seen some shit."

"Who are you and what do you want?" he eyed Evelyn with a furrow between his brows, refusing to move or blink until he got his answers.

"Ever heard of the Red Dust?"

"What about it?"

"I'm Evelyn, I worked for them for about five years now," she sat on the messy bed and propped her elbows on her knees. "But I'm not here for you, I'm here to earn the King's favor. And I need your help with that."

"So they didn't send you for me? Alright, I'll buy it. But I doubt I'll be much help." He grabbed the parchment that stood in Evelyn's extended hand, quickly going through the words. "You want my help with this? A crime that doesn't even interest the guards?"

"Exactly. Injustice is everywhere, and a vigilante is all this place needs," she clasped her hands and leaned forward. She was so proud of herself, years of lying proved that lying was a skill one needed the most. "What do you know about this operation?"

"That depends. What do I get out of this?"

"Your freedom, I suppose. I know your guild is in Denerim and they’re _terribly_ disorganized," she tut-tutted with a mocking shake of her head. “ _It would be a shame if something happened to them, no?”_

The man huffed and crossed his arms. “Alright. Give me a moment to prepare and I’ll meet you in the front.”

The floorboards creaked with each step she took towards the door. _This is good,_ she smirked, her plan was set in motion and nothing could stop it. Darius was still at the same spot she left him, covered with a flimsy blanket as he drooled on the table. He was a big man for a rogue, fairly muscular and seeing him tucked in while sleeping was almost endearing. Evelyn lightly tapped his arm, and he jumped, frantically searching the tavern.

“Damn you,” he cursed, rubbing his eyes. “What's this?”

“Something the bartender mixed up to sober you up, but it seems it's not needed anymore. Oh, I took care of Elyndar, he should meet us shortly.”

 

* * *

 

  
They slowly crept under the gentle embrace of the night sky, wan moonlight illuminating their path to their goal and Elyndar cursed under his breath for letting himself go through with everything as he led them to an abandoned house near Amaranthine’s gates. Evelyn was right behind him, analyzing each step, each movement he made. He carried himself in a way she hadn’t seen before, likely due to different training and guild he was in, though she wasn’t sure that made much of a difference. What she did find weird was the fact he had both daggers and a bow, she hadn’t seen anyone trained in two combat styles but given his past and experience, it didn’t seem inconceivable.

“Here,” he paused behind a tree and turned to Evelyn. “This is where I last saw them, there should be about thirteen people inside. This house was the main base of operation after the Blight, but the Queen made quick work of them.”

She exhaled and cracked her back. She didn’t have enough time to rest properly from the fight before, but she was sure that this would go smoothly, _quality over quantity,_ she thought as she pulled her hood up and stalked her way to the door.

The silhouettes felt like they were dancing in the darkness that seemed to swallow any light that dared to cross its path. Evelyn still couldn't quite believe everything was set in perfect motion, just as she had imagined it. Now the only thing left was that the smugglers were actually _there._ Even if they weren't, they were still on the right track.

As their eyes slowly adjusted to the setting, Darius examined the room and lit a candle that barely had any life left in her. A short moment of silence followed before they were back on their feet, searching the room for anything that'd help them in their so-called investigation. “There should be a hidden room, a basement, anything like that…” Elyndar whispered as he patted an oak armoire. “See if you can find something.”

Of course he'd know about that, how didn't she think of it? Careful steps took her to a door and into an empty, dusty room with cracked floorboards and enough cobwebs to make a fine sweater. It seemed like no one has been there for years, giving some truth to the ‘abandoned house’ facade, and if she didn't know any better she'd turn away and call it a day.

“I could've been in Denerim now,” Darius grumbled as he entered the room, “but no, I just _had_ to follow you.”

Instead of replying, she ignored his remarks and focused on her task ahead. There was no way there were on the wrong track and there was not enough time to restart their progress, the caravan was leaving in the morning and if they missed it, they'd have to walk all the way to Denerim, and she felt she had enough of walking.

“There,” Elyndar gestured to a corner, pointing out a trapdoor that Evelyn somehow missed. “They seem to be good at what they're doing, they've hidden their footsteps well.”

“Shall we, then?” she pulled the door up to reveal a staircase that led to muddy ground.

Wine casks were set on the right side of the room, filling the air with a foul smell–something between mold and vinegar, along with the earthy smell of rotting wood. Evelyn scrunched her face, placing a hand over her nose and mouth to ease the gagging and continued forward, questioning every step she took. “Are you sure we're in the right place?” Her muffled voice came out louder than expected, stopping her in her tracks and she raised a hand. Quiet movements could be heard echoing through the cellar and turned to them, passing the daggers to Darius. “Hide and wait for my signal.”

She always preferred to take risky situations in her own hands, which was probably her worst trait but it was too late to change now; orange light came closer and closer and she threw her cloak aside in hopes she’d look less threatening. _Think, Evelyn, Think._ What would be the best course of action, other than rummaging through a small pile of garbage that lied on the floor? Well, that seemed like the best one if she was going to come up with an elaborate lie.

The footsteps came to a sudden stop and she froze, still hunched over and nearly spilled the contents of her stomach from the smell that came below her.

“You there,” an orotund voice reached her ears and she turned her head as if she was forced to and nearly gasped at its owner. A tall, muscular woman stood at the end of the room, holding a torch in one hand and the other was nicely placed on her wide hips. _Focus– no, not on her!_ “Speak!”

“Uhhh—” of all the times she should have been speechless, this was _not_ one of them.

“How did you get in here?” The woman reached for a sword on her back, and Evelyn couldn’t stop staring at her muscles flexing with each minor movement. _Evelyn Eyana Alianore Trevelyan, will you focus for Maker’s sake?_

“Uh, the door was unlocked, I-I’m just a lowly thief—” well, it wasn’t _that_ far from the truth, if anyone was asking.

"You left it open again?!” she barked at one of the men that stood next to her and sighed. “Hold the torch.”

Evelyn backed away as the woman approached her and cursed at herself for leaving the daggers with Darius, which was hidden so well that not even she could tell where he was. She raised a hand, then another and stopped. If they were going to take her- it would be easier for her to take care of what she came for. If they were going to kill her- she had backup. Sighing, she stopped and straightened her posture. “Fine, you caught me.”

“Hmm?” the woman pursed her lips as she slowly dragged her eyes from Evelyn’s head to her feet.

“I was scouting this house for a little… Operation. Seems that you’ve beat me to it, though. Bravo,” she clapped. “Who told you about my guild? When I catch that traitor I will—”

“Hold. No one told us of anything, much less of any guild you might be in- but you’ve got my curiosity. Rat, pass the ropes.”

_Oh, my._

Third time in two months where she was led into an unknown place with her wrists tied, and frankly, she was getting sick of it. Darius and Elyndar were following, surely they wouldn’t leave her alone with a dozen people that could slit her throat at any sudden movement, right? Even if the people pushing her seemed like a bunch of amateurs, she would’ve applauded their courage for bringing someone to their supposedly _secret_ hideout without knocking out their foe first, right before she killed them. She was still far outnumbered though, _and_ without weapons, she kept reminding herself, but this was much better than running into their den and shouting their lungs out while aimlessly flailing, or at least she hoped so. That plan had a lot of potential; if anything, it would be a better distraction. _Why am I a rogue again?_

The sound of water became louder and louder as they led her through a narrow corridor. As soon as they entered what seemed to be the base of their operation, she quickly noted every blind spot, every object that could be used in an emergency and the others’ positions. They were scattered; just as she expected. _Perfect._ If she were to strike, she’d have enough time to run away before she was reached. The one called Rat–a short man that had less muscle on his body than a newborn–pushed her on the ground with enough force to impress her and she spat out bits of ground that got in her mouth.

The woman raised her chin and crossed her arms, looking at the figure that lied beneath her feet. _She could probably snap me in two if she tried,_ Evelyn noted as she turned her head. “What’s your guild’s name and what’s your operation?”

Evelyn smiled and shook her head. Did they really expect answers on something that didn’t even exist? She felt a sudden tug and she was flipped on her back. _Oh, now it’s getting fun,_ she thought as the woman knelt over her. _Smack._ It was strong enough to leave a red mark on Evelyn’s cheek, but she didn’t even flinch; she _laughed._

“Please, is a slap the best you can do? You might as well undress and spank me, I’d enjoy it so much more!”

Another smack, followed, _fiercer,_ and it did sting her a bit but she wouldn't budge, she could only hope that her companions would get there on time before the woman decided to take more drastic measures. "Pass me a knife."

_Well, shit._

Her vest was cut just slightly above her abdomen, exposing the scars of a bear attack that happened way too long ago. The press of cold steel on naked skin sent shivers down her body and she locked eyes with her enemy as she slowly pulled the blade across, leaving a small cut that didn’t bother to bleed. _They’re really bad at this._

She slowly wiggled her arms under her ignoring the discomfort of the ropes rubbing against her and kept her eyes fixated on the person above her, watching every slight movement as she ordered Evelyn’s answers, and without Darius or Elyndar in sight she’d have to improvise.

Breaking eye contact for a moment she went over everyone’s position before she could take action, though the chances of escaping were. Even if she tried to run; she could never outrun everyone. She used her full force to push the woman off her- not that it was an easy task since she was twice her height _and_ more muscular than her, grabbed the knife out of her hands and watched despair wash over her. “Tell your men to back down and I will not hurt you,” she growled as she rose to her feet, knife pointed at the figure that was now kneeling _under_ her.

“Stand back!”

A collective ‘yes, ma’am’ was heard and Evelyn lowered her weapon, looking around. “Smart. Now, to answer your question: there is no operation or a guild that wanted this crummy place.”

“Then why– how—”

_Enough,_ a voice in her head spoke and an overwhelming surge of… warmth? _Heat?_ She didn’t know what it was, she didn’t know why she felt the way she did, but she could not stop herself; the woman lied dead in front of her and before she could realize what she had done, she was fighting off several men and tried to ignore the arrow that pierced her shoulder. Each movement was labored, each breath was heavy but one by one, they started falling down. _This is all too familiar,_ she thought; distracting herself from the gushing wound in her leg and she felt her head weighing her down, the knife felt duller with each lazy swing she took but she didn’t want to die in the hands of amateurs that couldn’t tell their ass from their head.

She _wouldn’t._

The shout of a familiar voice brought her back to reality and she delivered another hit before she lunged to the side and hid behind crates she noticed while entering and clutched her leg, gasping for precious air that didn’t seem to be enough. The others seemed preoccupied with Darius and Elyndar to come after her which she was insanely thankful for, but this was her fight as well and she sliced off a piece of her top, tied it around her thigh and leaped into battle.

Three were left so they didn’t pose much of a problem, though Evelyn took the pleasure of stabbing an archer well past the point of his death; he was the one that shot her, after all. She panted heavily as she stood up and gave the body break, her legs weak but she was still able to walk. “Darius,” she breathed and leaned against the cold stone wall. “Can you do me a favor?”

“If it’s about our timing, I’m sorry—”

“I just need help with this arrow, don’t worry.”

Darius nodded and carefully grabbed the shaft of the arrow, snapping it once Evelyn bit down on a bit of leather that was sticking off her vest. She sighed once he threw away the broken bit and walked over to her healthier side, wrapping an arm around her waist to support her as she limped forward.

“I have poultices in my bag, but we need to get the other bit of the arrow out.” Soft clinks were heard from Elyndar and he pulled out two flasks and he set them by her side while Darius gently sat her down on a nearby crate. “Bite down and stay still,” he passed her a leather glove he pulled out and she bit down into it, focusing on the mild earthy taste it had. Or was it from the dirt she nearly swallowed before? Her thoughts were averted to the pain in her shoulder and she let out a small whimper as the liquid burned her wound, healing it slowly. He passed her the other flask that had a strange yellowish-green color to it, “Drink, it’ll restore your strength.”

She hesitated for a moment as the smell of deep mushroom hit her then downed it in one quick gulp. Welcoming the sudden wave of energy, she poured the remaining contents of the poultice Elyndar used on the rest of her wounds and she head towards the other end of the hideout without saying a word.

Darius watched her carefully as she ascended the wooden stairs, but he didn’t say a word. He could tell something was bothering her and knowing her, it was better not to ask until the storm had passed.

 

* * *

 

 

They boarded the carriage with a reluctant Elyndar after hours of persuasion. Denerim wasn’t too far; and neither was their goal. This is where they would all part ways, and Evelyn still hadn’t said a word. She either hung her head low or stared off in the distance, watching the trees get smaller on the horizon with the occasional bounce of her head as the wheel hit a rock that protruded more than the rest.

“Something is wrong with me,” she finally croaked out, nearly startling Darius. “Something happened back there that I-I can’t explain.”

Darius leaned forward and looked at her, worry lacing his features. “What do you mean?”

“I murdered that woman in cold blood, Darius. All I could think about was… Killing. At that moment. I was aware of what was happening but…  I couldn’t stop myself. Not when I was bleeding, not when I was slaughtering everyone.”

“Let’s get to Denerim and get a nice room, and we’ll talk properly, alright? You could use some good sleep,” he placed his hand on hers and gave her a reassuring smile. “It will be alright.” She shot him a sad smile back and leaned back against the wood, letting the moving trees take her into another world.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost sorry about what this has turned into but... not really. Angst town, here we come?


	4. Forthcoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little bits and pieces, losing stitches.  
> She really needs to plan things better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am incredibly sorry for the slow updates. Chapter 5 is coming soon!!!

Darius jumped off the old carriage with a spring, while Evelyn made little to no effort to appear cheerful as she stepped down. Elyndar observed them casually, offering a helping hand to the ladies that were in the back, giggling at the handsome elf. The gates were just as massive as she pictured them, two guards stood like statues on each side and greeted them with a hint of monotony in their voice as each person passed. 

Cheerful jargon and smiling faces filled the markets along with the quiet arguments between merchants and patrons which were typical for pompous nobles, fruit stands that gave a warm feeling to the cold air and she suddenly felt small in such a big place. She tagged behind the men that became much closer, occasionally bumping into random passersby without even raising her head to apologize. 

Darius stopped to browse some fine dwarven crafts when she noticed Elyndar sneak off to a secluded area that was only a smudge on her map, but she decided it was best not to pry as she already had enough on her plate. 

"You look like you could need some new armor," a whisper came from behind that would've made her jump, had she not been trained hard enough to avoid such situations. "Yours is all torn and bloody… People are scared of you."

"Let them be scared then, if they're so foolish to think _anyone_ would strike in the light of day," she turned to Darius and crossed her arms. 

"I'm just trying to be helpful," he raised his arms in surrender and shrugged. "Are you still bothered by whatever happened yesterday?" 

"I don't know if 'bothered' is the correct word… More like confused. Let's just find the tavern."

And find the tavern they did; along with new strings of insults from people that refused to give them directions. They weren't surprised to find that the tavern was full, especially in the capital of Ferelden where new visitors came like flies on rotting fruit. It was better maintained, too. It smelled like fresh roses, (or was it lavender?) making them forget about the dreaded hours passed in the previous ones.

"Stop stalling," Darius watched Evelyn slowly stir her drink and propped his elbows on the table. "You know I'll get an answer."

She dropped her teaspoon with a sigh, wincing at the sharp _clink._ "I'm not stalling, Darius. He fucked with my head, and that's it. I don't know what he did, all I know is he…" she rubbed her face and looked at her friend's expectant eyes. _Maker damn you for caring._ "He did some kind of ritual or tests- whatever they were. I can hardly control it."

"And what is 'it'?" 

"This weird urge I get when I'm fighting. My blood boils, like I'm angry but I've felt anger, I've felt immense rage, and this wasn't it. It feels like nothing and everything at the same time."

"So it's all because of him, isn't it?" It wasn't a question, it was a statement. "Do you feel bad when that happens?" 

She shook her head and her eyes were drawn to the table nearby, where a cheerful couple chatted and giggled, too shy to hold hands in public. "I feel nothing. What Bertram did… took away a part of what made me _me._ "

No more words needed to be spoken. She brought the teacup to her lips, sipping slowly on the hot liquid that seemed to calm the lump in her throat and she didn't even notice the perky blonde that brought them a bottle of blood-red wine and winked at Darius. 

"We'll get it fixed, Ev. For now, let's focus on what we have to finish and get you to Antone."

She nodded and pulled up a map she had quickly sketched. "Elyndar mentioned entrances to the warehouse, here and here. I'm not sure about the guard rotations but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Seems easy enough. If it's the warehouse I'm thinking about, it's pretty big but Elyndar can help with navigation." He put his glass down and leaned forward. "Why are you doing this? You could've been in Kirkwall by now." 

"I keep my promises, and I still need to get those guards. I have an idea for that but it's risky, and I'll need help."

"What is it?" 

"We fake an assassination order from Elyndar's guild. I can sneak into the King's room and inform him of that, I'll show the orders and hopefully he'll buy it."

"It would be easier to talk to the guards and get them to do it."

"It has to be me. That way, I'll get some resources, the King's trust and the assassins will be dealt with. Now the problem is the whole 'sneaking into his room' thing."

Darius lost himself in his thoughts as he held his glass, the liquor seemed to hold more questions than answers. "It's never simple with you, is it?" He smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

She raised her head just in time to notice Elyndar entering and she waved her hand. He seemed in better spirits than previously, walking to her in a subtle glee. Her cheek pressed against her arm as she used the table for support. "Where did you sneak off to?" 

He sat next to Darius that eyed him curiously. "Visited my family in the alienage."

 _Ah, so that's what the blot on my map is._ She took a mental note as a reminder to add the place to the map she wouldn't be using soon and decided to leave the men alone with their chatter as she filled another glass. She didn't want to be the one to break their spirits when they seemed to be feeling well and excused herself, hoping Darius would brief the elf on her insane plan. 

The streets of Denerim seemed calmer in the afternoon, though that didn't mean complete silence. Still, she appreciated the loneliness for a while with the welcoming buzz of the liquor as her boots clacked, taking her to a nice game of exploration. 

Even though she wasn't fighting, she studied the city and its advantages and disadvantages. There were many high points that archers couldn't reach but there were also too many places where her foes could hide and— _what is that?_

She scurried towards a stall, carefully examining the glinting dagger that seemed to call her. The odd silver curves, although motionless, slithered through her mind like a snake approaching its prey; slow and deadly, just like its venom. Red swirling lines decorated the scratched blade and her experience told her that it was likely that looted from some poor sod's corpse, but she didn't care. _It can be repaired._ "How much?" she gestured to the weapon that embedded itself in her head and she wouldn't let it go. She had to have it. 

"It's 25 but I can lower it if you want the second one," the merchant reached under the stall and pulled out another dagger. "Whoever used it last got it all sorts of messed up but if you prefer matching, well, it's yours."

"Why lower the price, though?" 

"You'll need to get it repaired, right?" He smiled and leaned against the wall behind him. 

"Right… Thanks. Is there a blacksmith nearby?" 

The merchant pointed across the street to an old house with a big sign hanging off the side. With a curt thanks, she gave him the sovereigns and headed towards the blacksmith, counting her remaining coins along the way. She started missing the perks of being in a guild and having a blacksmith at her disposal at any time along with the various crafting stations that she learned to make use of during those six years. 

A couple of unsure knocks and she slowly pushed the door open, recoiling at the sudden wave of heat that nearly overwhelmed her and she found herself in a large room, facing two men that seemed to be arguing. "Uh, hello?" 

"Oh, hello there! I apologize for the little argument you had to witness," the younger man smiled and moved behind a neatly cleaned counter. "I'm Herren and that's master Wade, how may we assist you?" 

"I'm Ey-- Evelyn, a pleasure. I've got daggers that need some serious repairs, but I need them by tomorrow. Is there a chance you can—" 

"Repairing daggers? How dull!" Wade cried out as he flailed his hand. "Come back when you have one made of dragon tooth or—" 

"Forgive him," Harren chuckled. "It's been a while since anyone has asked for repairs. May I take a look?" 

She nodded and handed him the daggers, expecting to be interrupted yet again even in the smallest actions she took and waited patiently while Herren inspected the glinting weapons. “I can pay well, but as I said I will need them by tomorrow.”

“It’s not an easy task, they’re severely damaged, but I’m sure it will be done. _Right, master Wade?_ ” he nearly growled at him with a fake smile plastered on his face and thanked Evelyn as she dropped a few sovereigns on the counter.

 _A full day off,_ she thought as she exited the shop. She wasn’t used to having free time at all and she started to miss all the reports and orders she had to go through once she became Antone’s unofficial assistant. _“Let me help, you four have enough on your plate as it is,”_ she pushed him into letting go and accepting a helpful hand for once.

Staying still just wasn’t for her and dying of boredom was not a way she’d want to go after all that she’s been through. Huffing, she sat on an old wooden bench and observed the people. Ferelden seemed so different from the Free Marches, even if they shared minor similarities. There was some ease in the air though, something she hadn’t felt since she was a small girl on the docks that begged the sailors to sing for her before they departed… And they did. Who could ignore a child’s gleeful smile when it got its wish? It felt like all the weight had suddenly dropped from her shoulders and she was back in her home waiting for the daily lecture to end so she could have a nice, hot meal and some tea with her mother before she would dress up and go for a stroll. She sighed and leaned back, raising her head ever so slightly to look at the clear sky. Somehow, at that moment, everything felt right.

 

* * *

  
  
  
“You done drinking yet, boys?” she placed each hand on Darius and Elyndar’s backs and smiled. “I’ve got work to do, and I need your help.”

Darius turned to her with a slight crease between his eyebrows. “We weren’t drinking and _where were you?_ We looked everywhere!”

She dismissed his question with a wave of her hand and sat down, chugging the last bit of wine. “Did you tell Elyndar about my plan?”

“He did, and it’s stupid. You can’t honestly _believe_ that would work.” Elyndar crossed his arms as he waited for a response on a question he didn’t really ask.

She pulled out a parchment she bought on her way to the tavern and passed it to him, vaguely explaining what needs to be written. In her mind, everything went smoothly: an order to assassinate the Queen along with some useless information that was specific to Elyndar’s guild and lastly, a familiar name to Denerim. A name that had caused a lot of trouble ever since the end of the Fifth Blight. He briefed her on the castle’s layout and stressed the dead ends and points she should be wary of because of all the failed times and lost lives they’ve had trying to infiltrate the place.

“Why not the King though? It would seem more believable,” Elyndar passed her the parchment which she slightly crumpled.

“He values the Queen’s life more than his own _and_ she’s the Hero of Ferelden. The stakes are higher.” Darius chimed in, supporting his chin on his palm. “Seems good if you ask me.”

“Have you met with your father yet, Darius?”

He shook his head. “It’d be hard to get to him, he’s an important man.”

“I doubt he’d be too important to see his son. You get to meet him, I get a way out, Elyndar will have the guild off his back, we all win.”

Darius clicked with his tongue and looked at Evelyn with an expression she couldn’t quite make out. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do. **_But_** \- I’m going alone.”

She felt her stomach beginning to knot and Darius’ gaze felt more intense than the moment he found her covered in his men’s blood in the place that was supposed to be his haven. She felt the need to apologize but she didn’t know why. _You put him through so much,_ a voice that seemed far but yet so close mocked her. “I uh, I’ll be back soon then.” She stood up and brushed away the imaginary dust from her leather breeches. “Be careful,” she whispered as she passed him.

Dusk was nearing and the merchants were beginning to clear out, a perfect time for her to scout the guards’ pathing. It was as simple as any others; they weren’t careless but still had that bored demeanor to their posture. Once night fell it would be time to set things in motion and there was no room for mistakes, and if luck would be good to her she could avoid fighting or killing.

 

*

 

“Let’s get this over with,” Elyndar muttered as he followed her through the castle’s garden. “Why do you need us, anyway?”

“If he doesn’t believe me I’ll need someone to back me up. If the need to fight arises, just stay here. I’ll handle it.”

She nearly let out a sigh when Elyndar rolled his eyes and looked at Darius that seemed to disapprove of her actions with every motion he made. No more words were spoken, she just nodded and backed away from their sight.

You’d think that a person would have more trouble sneaking into a _castle,_ but it posed no challenge. It was a boring old building with windows higher than she could climb but some quick jumps and begging the Maker helped her to an open one and she immediately pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, making sure her hair wouldn’t peak out. There were some good places she could hide and avoid detection, especially in the dark corners where the torch’s light could not touch. Walking while crouched was getting seemingly more difficult though. Her entrance was a _very_ bad one and very far from the King’s suite. _I’ll manage,_ she thought as she took another turn.

Maybe they were right. Maybe it would all fail and she’d get thrown into a dungeon _again_ and she’d spend her time alone _again_ and she’d have to— No. There was no room for doubt. She set herself on this path and she would get herself to the end of it. No more _maybe this_ and _maybe that._ There was only forward and she. Will. Get. There.

 _Happy thoughts, Eyana, happy thoughts,_ she pushed a door that served as a portal into what was _surely_ the Fade since the room seemed too big to fit into the castle. The bed was enough to fit her whole guild- well, _previous_ guild and some more, though the room was empty. Waiting wasn’t really her strongest side. She put her daggers out of sight and the parchment close to reach and sat on the floor, and waited.

And waited.

_And waited._

That must be what the Void feels like. Waiting forever for a sign of something. Or someone. She wasn’t really sure what she was thinking at that moment, her eyelids were getting heavy and trapping her vision behind her own body’s bars. Just as she was ready to leave and look for another room, she saw a faint light creep through the door that opened ever so slowly. 

 

_“Your Majesty.”_

_She sat in a chair near a window that had let the moonlight bounce off her hair like it was a steady water surface._

 

She wished that happened. While her entrance wasn’t as dramatic as she envisioned, sitting in the King’s armchair was pretty close and if it were under different circumstances she would brag all about it.

Now though, with the King’s sword pointed at her she had no time for such boasting. “I’m Evelyn Trevelyan,” she cringed inwardly at her long-forsaken name, still fixated at the sword that had gold embellishments. Fit for a king. “And I bring an urgent message.”

“Talk.” He kept his weapon in the same spot, sharp blade threatening to cut the air around her.

She slowly reached into her vest and pulled out the ‘order’, careful not to make any sudden movements that could end her life then and there. “An assassination order from Stonedawn.”

  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting ready for the big event! Alistair is not pleased with the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terribly sorry for how late this is- real life got in the way of my fun. I might keep the next chapters shorter so I can post faster! I've also reread the previous chapters and I'll have to go back and edit a bit!

"Stonedawn? Never thought _they_  would have the gall for a stunt like this," he furrowed his brows and slowly lowered his sword, but never let his guard down. 

"I'm not asking you to trust me, I'm asking you to be prepared for an attack. I understand your caution, you _are_ the king after all…” She sighed and lowered her head for a moment, searching through the mess of words that struggled to form a coherent sentence. “All I'm asking is for you to believe me and keep yourself and the Queen safe. That's all I'm here for." She slowly stood up, making sure she wouldn't make any sudden moves to alert him. "I'll be taking my leave now."

As she straightened her cloak and reached for her daggers, she heard a word she’d be hoping to hear since she mentioned her departure. _“Wait.”_  There was no response from her- only a stop in her motions while she hoped not to find a sword lodged between her ribs. “I’ve had assassins come after me, I’ve befriended one that has tried to kill both me and Elena, so what makes these guys so special that _another_ assassin has to come and alert me of their plans?”

“I’m not just an assassin. I’m a noble that was tired of doing nothing while the world crumbled,” she muttered. “To put it simply, it’s a favor for favor type of thing. I scratch your back, you scratch mine?”

“So what you’re saying is you expect me to do you a favor for this.”

“Yes and no. I quit my guild and I was about to leave, one thing led to another and now I’m expected to get rid of Stonedawn for an acquaintance and get guards for that small village below Highever.”

She watched Alistair’s puzzled look and she was nearly sure she wasn’t making any sense, though it did… In her head. He sat in the armchair she previously sat in and rested his elbows on his knees. “And why do you owe your acquaintance a favor?”

“You’re starting to sound like my father. With uh, all due respect, of course. He’s a well-respected man in Ostwick—” she stopped when she saw him frowning. “Right. Elyndar, helped me get rid of some smugglers in Amaranthine along with another friend from my previous guild.” _You’re rambling, Evelyn._ “I promised I’d take them off his back once we got to Denerim. That’s how I got the letter and—”

“And you trust him? What makes you think he won’t turn on you?” he intertwined his fingers and squinted at her while she rubbed her forehead.

“He helped me and saved me from near death. That’s something that earns trust in my book,” she crossed her arms and leaned to the side, ready for more interrogating. She felt that this wouldn’t end anytime soon. “Is it alright if I sit?”

It took him a moment to finally notice her torn armor and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think this was some beggar that scrapped leathers off poor souls that had met their end. “Please do. There was a woman we met during the Blight who saved our lives- well, her mother did- but she ran off after the Blight with-- off to Maker knows where and that was the last we saw of her.”

“Oh, Morrigan? That explains why we didn’t have much on her,” she slowly walked to the bed and sat down. “It doesn’t really scream ‘betrayal’ to me though. My point is, I’m doing all this because there were some slavers in the small village who tried to get us but Darius and I are highly trained so it wasn’t a big deal. Most villagers escaped while some weren’t so lucky and there wasn’t even a single guard there to help those poor souls. I would’ve been off to Kirkwall by now if I didn’t care much about the situation here.”

“I see… Guards will be dispatched by tomorrow morning and you will not ‘owe’ me anything. If I had known what they were going through sooner I could have prevented all that…” he sighed and stood up, taking his cloak off. “Show me where it is.”

She nodded and pulled out her map hoping that he would ignore all the Xs marked on it in various locations.

 

* * *

 

 

_“Listen, you’ll do fine. If you fuck something up, we’re here to unfuck it,” Domin smiled and pat my back. “Just follow your instructions.”_

_I took a deep, shaky breath and jumped down into the darkness of the mansion. Get in, grab the relic, get out. Simple enough, I had been trained for a year for this._

_It all seemed easy in theory when Antone kept going over the points that I needed to remember… The ones that were very important in heists, at least._

_I already knew the guards’ rotations and the layout of the mansion, nearly as well as I knew the Chant, but that didn’t help ease the tension that was building within me._

_Wine cellars seemed to be my safe space when it came to breaking into places that were held in high regard, they were rarely guarded well- or so I've heard._

_"There's a jewel in the Bann's room, take it and be out as quickly as you can. Yvo and Domin are there to watch your back."_

_Alright, I thought, it's time to make a run for it._

_The mansion was a maze of corridors and locked rooms, ones I didn't even need to bother breaking into. There was nothing I needed there. All I had to do was follow the simple goal as the last trial to get accepted in the Red Dust and I'd be good; every other task would be easier with my comrades by my side._

 

* * *

 

  
"Evelyn?" 

"Hm? Oh, yes. While I can't give you the location of my previous guild because it disbanded… never mind that. There's a trail here that leads directly to the place."

Alistair nodded and pushed the map back into her hands. He had many questions but for now, she answered all she could and it was time for her to make her dramatic exit and inform Darius and Elyndar of the King's plan. 

After all, her horrible idea worked. 

She jumped out of the window down to a lattice that served as a decent ladder—nevermind the plants that scratched every bit of exposed skin she had—and headed towards her companions. 

The plan _was_ set in motion but she hated the way she handled it. Lying was a breeze for her, almost easier than speaking the truth, but when she had no reason to lie she turned into a rambling mess that she couldn't stop, thankfully the King bought it. 

She snuck back to the bushes that hardly concealed the towering Darius and motioned them to follow her.

"How did it go?" Darius asked, adjusting his vest once they made their way out of the courtyard. 

"Decent. He's expecting us for breakfast tomorrow—"

"He's _what?_ " Elyndar cut her off, face paler than the moon's glow. "What did you do?" 

"We just talked and he said we'll discuss this further when the Queen arrives. I don't really want to get into a heated argument for this, all I want is a strong drink and a distraction"

He rolled his eyes and motioned her to follow him, leading Evelyn through the back alleys of Denerim. The stench of feces reminded her of Darktown’s shady corners and moldy walls. Oh, what a pleasure it would be to get her lungs full of the diseases that lingered through the air. 

All the turns they took lead them to a much nicer building–compared to the others she passed–with a nice sign that read “The Pearl”. She stood puzzled while Elyndar slowly walked to the door. 

“Are you coming?” He asked, turning to her with the door half-opened. “This place has everything you need- and more.”

Darius tutted and placed his hand between Evelyn’s shoulder blades, urging her to go in. Slightly pensive, she took careful steps towards the large wooden door that separated fresh air from the musky odor of bodily fluids and several different types of alcohol.

“Welcome!” A cheery woman, perhaps in her forties, greeted them with a smile spread wider than the legs of the women inside of The Pearl’s rooms’ opened doors. “If you’ve come for a good time and decent alcohol, this is the place for you–as long as you leave your dignity in front of the door.”

“Sounds good to me, I’ve never had any dignity to start with!” Evelyn chuckled and followed the woman to a table. “Now, what do you have to offer?” 

A fairly long list, that’s what she offered. Men and women of all types, all kinds of alcohol and too many bad decisions to be made. She ordered ale to start her night off and watched Darius walk a short blonde girl to a room. Smiling, she brought the ale up to her lips and turned to Elyndar who seemed like he hated every second spent there.

“Didn’t think you’d be the person to know of this place,” the tankard clanked as she set it down on the table, drawing a weird look from her companion

“I’ve been here- in Denerim- all my life. From my birth in the Alienage, to my eventual kidnapping; I know every dark corner and twisted intention.”

“Kidnapped… Is that how you joined Stonedawn?”

Elyndar nodded and looked at the bartender behind him, raising his hand. “Yeah. In a way, I was thankful to be taken away from that forsaken place, but both were… Evil, I suppose. I can’t find the word that would explain such an experience.”

“Seems to be a recurring theme in guilds, if you ask me.” She looked around as if trying to avoid the words that swirled in her head. “I joined in a similar way; yanked away from my home when I was eighteen, stripped of everything I knew and taught how to kill and steal. My values aren’t what they once were. I was told it was for the greater good, helping the unfortunate, yadda yadda. Everything to get a young, naive girl interested in their scheme.”

Elyndar huffed and took a sip of his tea. “Bastards, that’s what they are. You turned out good, it seems.”

“I know what it’s like to be stuck in one place,” she admitted. “I understand your guild was more strict and controlling while mine was friendlier and treated me like I was a part of their family,” a sigh escaped her parted lips and she restrained herself from revealing too much of her past. “But that’ll be in the past, you’ll be a free man soon!”

He smiled and looked at his cup that was warming his hands now. “I guess I will be.”

She shot a smile back and looked towards the room where Darius was, expecting him to come out. The distant chatter and singing of patrons was a nice sight to behold in a place where everything seemed messed up. _At least these people have no worries._

What a foolish thought. How could she possibly know what everyone was going through? Though, it did seem like they had no care in the world as they whistled at the barmaids and sang along while waving their tankards in the air. Ah, memories.

While her eyes jumped from one person to another, she noticed a table filled with peculiar people, who she figured were the _‘service providers’_ and went through her options. She wasn’t sure what she wanted, as the memory of Antone still lingered in her mind and through those years she never wanted anyone else- he was everything she could have needed. That rare smile he shot her that he reserved for her and _only_ her, the stoic demeanor that he dropped around her and the grace he always carried himself with… And that _amazing_ black hair that she loved to run her fingers through, untangling any minor knots that might’ve formed in the long silky locks. 

She swallowed the feelings that threatened to spill out at any moment and ordered another drink- another treat to send away any bad feelings and welcome the next day with a throbbing headache and regret. _Don’t forget the daggers,_ she reminded herself as she took another sip of her whiskey and stood up, walking to the table she was eyeing. 

“Hello there,” one of the men greeted her with a sultry tone. “Looking for some fun, are you?”

She pouted her lips, pretending to think. “Hmm... I don’t know. What could a lonely, bored girl such as myself do?”

Antone was right; she _was_ a horrible flirt. The man chuckled and pointed towards the rooms. “How’s about I show you?”

With a raised eyebrow, she smiled and corrected her posture. _“Why don’t you?”_ she replied in a lower voice, already feeling her blood heating.

*

She paid a hefty sum for what she wanted, but she’d be damned if Derwin (if that was his name) didn’t deliver. He was a pretty friendly guy, she noticed, once he left her panting in the mess of the brothel’s sheets.

“How long was I out for?” She rubbed her head as she walked towards Darius, eyeing Derwin subtly as she passed him.

“Well, considering that it’s morning now, I’d say a bit too long,” Darius sipped his tea, ignoring Evelyn’s ruffled hair and panicked look.

“I overslept, didn’t I? The King will have my head. We need to go, _right now_ —”

“Calm down, we’ve got plenty of time. Besides, Elyndar is not here yet, we need him as well.”

She nodded and gestured towards the exit, closing the door behind her shortly after. It was morning and a big day for all of them; all that she was missing now was the daggers she had to pick up from Master Wade’s shop and _boy_ was she excited for them. The enchanting melody they played in her mind was something she hadn’t forgotten yet, it drew her nearer and nearer until their eventual reunion.

"Master Wade?" she spoke softly as she entered the shop. Carefully looking around, she noticed a dark silhouette in front of the fireplace. 

"They're done," he spoke in a hushed tone and sighed. "They're sharper than any blade you can find- but the engraving is ruined."

Her eyes widened in response. Is that what he was worried about? "That's alright. I'm glad they were able to be saved." 

She dropped the gold coins on the counter and picked up her new companions. The engraving was slightly off but it didn't bother her- the blade could still cut. They glinted in the warm rays of morning sunshine and Evelyn breathed in the chilly air, letting her lungs fill before she exhaled with a huff. A few grimaces were thrown at nobles that gave her dirty looks, staring at her drawn daggers. Who was she to care what the nobles would think of her in a place where she wouldn’t step a foot in again? _After everything gets taken care of_ -

It didn’t take long for her to remember she had a lot of planning to do. Breakfast with the King- of all people- then… Then she’d be sending herself off on a suicide mission. There was still some time before they had to get ready to meet the King so she seized the opportunity to calculate the chances of survival and what would be the best course of action to keep Darius and Elyndar alive.

There would surely be from 40 to 50 people there given, the size of the warehouse and at least half of them would be prepared for an attack. She pulled out her map and flipped it to where Elyndar had scribbled the layout of the warehouse. 

_"X marks a door, O marks a window and T marks a trapdoor. This may not be completely accurate but it's the best I can remember."_

Taking out their leader would be the simplest solution, without having to dispatch the whole guild. _Getting to him will be hard, and there will be casualties, but it will get the job done,_ she thought. Elyndar said that the word to describe their leader would be ‘tyrant’- and even that was too mellow a word for someone like him. Though, considering just how powerful the guild was, fighting him would be no easy task. 

"There you are," Darius walked towards her, arms hanging loosely by his side. “Are you ready to go?”

She nodded, quickly shoving her map back in her bag. “We look as presentable as dead rats at a carnival,” she blurted out before standing up.

“I’m sure the King won’t mind. Come on, Elyndar isn’t far.”

She was quiet for a moment. Darius seemed content with the silence, observing the people that passed them and offered a gentle smile.

"Call me insane but I'm taking the offer to lead the guild in Orlais- if it's not disbanded, of course-” she blurted out without a second thought.

"You're insane."

Evelyn chuckled at Darius' remark. "It's purely so I have someone on the inside that can track down Bertram if he's still alive. No one can just disappear like that."

"And you'll be making yourself an easy target. You might as well carry a giant sign saying 'PLEASE STAB ME RIGHT NOW' wherever you go."

"It's not like I have much of a choice. After I head to Kirkwall I'll have nowhere else to go... My parents don't want me and I'll be left wandering the streets- at least this way I'll have a place to stay and something to do."

Darius just stood quietly, possibly thinking about the outcomes. They didn't know each other very long but they were close like they were siblings; and he knew that once this is done with, he may never see her again. He reunited with his father and he might get in the King's guard or spies when Stonedawn is taken care of. But Evelyn… She was a mess. She had no one to turn to. Even the family she felt she had turned their back on her; just like her real family did. 

"You'll write, right?" Darius said with a sigh. 

With a beaming face, she turned to him and nodded. "Of course I will."

A huge weight was lifted off her shoulders. It seemed like the thought came out of nowhere- like it simply manifested itself from her own grief but she was happy that at least Darius agreed to some extent.

Elyndar joined them in front of the castle gates and they headed inside- this time not afraid of the guards they worked to sneak past. A strange sense of pride overcame her when she saw the same guard she had tried to avoid when she was looking for the King’s suite.

“State your business!” One guard barked as they approached.

“We’re here to see the King- we were invited for breakfast,” Darius replied with some politeness in his tone as the guard eyed him suspiciously.

“We cannot let you in,” he straightened his posture. “We haven’t heard of this.”

Evelyn narrowed her eyebrows, looking at Darius. “This… This does not sound good,” she whispered, looking back at the guards.

“I don’t think he bought into your little… Story. We’re most likely being set up,” Elyndar slowly reached towards the hilt of his dagger, resting his hand on it in case a fight arose.


End file.
